I hate your honey-mouthed, easy-going skippers, who simper out, 'Please, my good men, have the goodness to brace round the foreyard when the ship's taken aback.' No, no—give me a man who knows how to command men.

Had I taken his accusations seriously I might have recommended a change in my under-managership, but I never could translate our jammy products into gas or explosives or even poison. Still yap, at least as concerned Beldite's.

The tent, made of tough canvas, held up to many abuses.

Yeah, you know what I'm talking 'bout / Yeah, get on with it, baby / That's what I'm talking 'bout / Now dig this!